The Littlest Princess Bride
by girl in the glen
Summary: For the prompt Love Hurts, by the Everyly Brothers. Napoleon finds himself an unlikely royal counselor.


The room was flooded with a pink hue that reminded the young man of a giant tuft of cotton candy. Looking at him from beneath a mass of blonde curls was a young girl ... make that a very little girl ... whose face was covered in dried tears. The sight of her made Napoleon's heart ache, just a little. He wondered what could make a little girl so very sad.

Perhaps it was the life of a princess. The UNCLE agent had an idea that it wasn't necessarily a good life, living in the eye of handlers and politicians. Princess Abigail would be pampered and groomed for her future life as a ruling monarch, either here or elsewhere. But, in this modern world what could that truly mean for a woman, say twenty years from now?

Abigail sat in a plump chair, her dress and pinafore neatly arranged around her. But her eyes were full of tears again, and Napoleon had no choice but to try and console her. He was here to protect her, as was his partner. The Russian was downstairs attending to some strategic elements of this affair; probably an easier task than playing the part of a nanny. Something about who had a better handle on females had gotten Solo this job; sneaky Russian.

Now, looking at the young princess, Napoleon felt his heart give a little once more. She looked so ... miserable. What did an eight year old have to be miserable about?

"Princess Abigail, do you want to tell me why you're crying? I promise to try and make it better, if I can.' Napoleon put his hand over his heart. "I promise." That usually worked with the ladies he encountered.

Abigail looked up hopefully at the handsome American. A stuttering sigh mixed with a half sob that was quickly sucked back in made for a pitiful sound. Her brown eyes pleaded for something, although Napoleon couldn't for the life of him figure out what it might be.

"Sweetheart, what could be so bad that it makes you so sad? Did you not get something that you asked for?" She slowly shook her head before heaving another great sigh. Leaning forward, just a little, she motioned for Napoleon to move a little closer. At last, she was going to spill the beans.

"Michael doesn't love me anymore."

Just that. A solemn pronouncement from the princess. Napoleon didn't know this Michael.

"Who is Michael?" Probably some kid in her school.

"Prince Michael, and we were going to be married someday, just like Aurora and prince Phillip. Only ...' Uh oh, the tears were welling up again. "Only he doesn't love me anymore, and he isn't going to marry me. He says he would rather be a knight and ... ' More sniffing and tears. "He just wants a horse and not a wife."

That did it, Abigail was crying in ernest now. Napoleon reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, knelt down next to the little princess and proceeded to wipe away her tears.

"Love hurts, Mr. Solo. I love Michael, and he said he loved me, but now he only loves a horse and doesn't want to be a king and for me to be his ...' Abigail blew her nose into the handkerchief, barely interrupting the litany of wrongdoing about to be perpetrated.

"I want to be Aurora, not Abigail. Then Prince Phillip would come and rescue me, and the thorns would go away and..." She stopped. Napoleon was staring at her open mouthed, trying to place the story she was reciting.

"Oh, you're telling the story of Sleeping Beauty. I saw that movie. But, you're not in a movie, Abigail, and Michael is just a boy. Boys don't really think about getting married; trust me, I was a boy once."

Abigail was looking hopefully now at this kind man. Perhaps he was telling her the truth about it, that boys had different dreams from little girls.

"But what about when we grow up? Will Michael love me again and want to marry me?" Hmmm... how to answer that. Napoleon might not be the best man to ask.

"I'm sure he will, sweetheart. It's just that right now, Michael wants to play and pretend that things are a big adventure. Some day, and trust me you have a lot of time, your true love will come and then you can live happily ever after."

Abigail seemed to brighten up with that happy news. Napoleon only hoped it would be true. He certainly lacked credentials when it came to happy endings, but he wasn't about to share that with the princess.

"So, even if Michael doesn't love me now, maybe he will again when we grow up? I suppose that is something." Eight years old and already learning the art of compromise.

"Yes, I think maybe it might happen like that. Or someone else will steal your heart." Napoleon winked at her with that, eliciting a giggle and another sigh, but not like the earlier one.

"Thank you Mr. Solo."

"You're welcome, Your Highness."

More giggles, a nod and a smile. Love hurts, but a kind word can sometimes help put things in perspective.


End file.
